


we wished for lakes been kissed by sun

by minycrds



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Autism Spectrum, Autistic Kozume Kenma, Best Friends, Childhood Friends, Friends to Lovers, Growing Up Together, M/M, Pining, Soulmate-Identifying Marks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-23
Updated: 2020-07-23
Packaged: 2021-03-05 10:54:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,753
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25469590
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/minycrds/pseuds/minycrds
Summary: Soulmates aren't a thing for Kenma and Kuroo. They've been best friends forever and Kuroo's the only person who knows how to make Kenma feel okay. He took the time to learn every little detail that made Kenma uncomfortable including textures, noises, smells and words and they're sure no one else will be able to understand them. And then they go to college and Kuroo's soulmate crisis ensues.
Relationships: Kozume Kenma/Kuroo Tetsurou
Comments: 9
Kudos: 171





	we wished for lakes been kissed by sun

Soulmates aren’t a thing in Kenma’s family. His father hadn’t been his mother’s soulmate and they’d still chosen to have a kid together. Nozomi thought she’d never find one and she never gave it much attention until she had Kenma. 

Kenma bore his mother’s soulmate mark on his wrist, it had the shape of a small cat with perky ears and it was a few shades darker than his own skin. It meant his mother was supposed to be his soulmate too. Therefore, the debacle ended right there, as soon as Kenma was born on a cold autumn night on October 16, 1995. 

He was glad he didn’t have to worry about the subject, because although his mother wasn’t his favourite person in the world, they had an okay relationship and he could live with the knowledge they’d be around each other for a long time. There would be no extra anxiety coming from the burden of having to pretend to like someone else just for the sake of a stupid mark.

Kenma wasn’t good with people. He was different, _funny_ , like his classmates said. He wasn’t sure what was funny about him but he just went with it. He didn’t like talking to strangers, he wasn’t good at making friends and wasn’t too eager to meet new people either. It just wasn’t enjoyable, it was too difficult and it made him feel awkward. 

It was as if he didn’t know how to act, what to say or do. Everyone around Kenma knew when the right time to speak was, how long you were supposed to look at someone and what they meant, and Kenma just didn’t. He took everything at face value and it just made the world much more confusing to navigate. He saw his classmates grow less timid and keep friends for months and he jusn’t wasn’t able to do it without a tremendous amount of effort.

Soon after starting school he realised it was definitely not going to be a nice experience, but he didn’t have a choice. Having no friends at school gave him time to focus on getting really good at video games, and at age 7 he knew most of his favourite ones by heart from start to finish. His mother often scolded him for talking to her endlessly about the different characters and their stories and the different features of the games and the background story and the music and the﹘ _Kenma, breathe!_

He couldn’t remember much at all from what he was learning at school besides subtraction. Maybe he needed to put more time on it, but as soon as he sat down on his desk at school his hands moved directly to the long strands of hair that hid his face and they were so soft and the scent of almonds and coconut of his shampoo was very soothing. Sometimes he could even count how many hairs there were if he concentrated hard enough and then he could twirl them and pull them and his scalp would tingle in the most pleasant way. He got scolded for doing that at school but his mother let him do it. She said her family had strong thick hair, anyway.

Once his mother got really mad and she’d yelled at some of his teachers and he was left alone. He was told as long as his grades didn’t plummet, then he’d be free to move as much or as little as he wished on his desk. A month later his mother gave him a small cube with different buttons and colours he could play with during class, but his hair was still his favourite toy. 

He knew he had a few privileges at school too. For example, he didn’t need to give presentations in front of his entire class, he could do it on video or give them in front of the teacher only. And that meant he couldn’t do group projects, which he was immensely grateful for. For the most part, school was an obligation and a responsibility he couldn’t get away from, so he made it as bearable as possible by pretending not to be there. 

Kenma knew the name of every dinosaur he’d laid his eyes on as a child, but later on he’d moved onto video games, quickly forgetting his love for dinosaurs. Of course he got the best mark on science class when they studied dinosaurs. He liked video games more than he’d ever liked dinosaurs. He loved RPGs because they kept him really busy thinking. Sometimes people playing online would insult him or call him a little girl, but he thought it was because they couldn’t see him or hear him. Nozomi let him play as long as he didn’t talk to older people, and those games were usually crowded with older people. Plus, it didn’t really affect him and _yes_ , he was just a boy so he had a lot to learn. He loved The Legend of Zelda too. The music was his favourite thing because it made his hands and ears feel all soft and like TV static was running through him, but the game kept him engaged. 

Besides school and video games he didn’t do much. Sometimes his mother would take him to see an older lady named Mirai, who was nice to him and gave him candy. They spoke about his week and school and _the videogames_ and the chairs in her office were velvet soft and squishy and she had different toys lined up on top of her desk and sometimes if you were really good and got good grades at school you could play with them but you had to give them back even if you wanted to take it home and sometimes it made his eyes hurt a little and gave him a little pout. She’d often teach him how to ask for things politely and he could ask about things his teachers or classmates said that he didn’t understand even if he could comprehend every individual word that came from their mouths. 

He had his mum for adult things but her mum and Mirai said one day he’d be an adult and he needed to know how to be polite and do things himself. The week he turned eight she gave him homework: _You have to make a new friend._

She’d said new as if he had any other friends and of course he didn’t, he didn’t have time for that and kids his age were weird. They liked making fun of little girls and running around and they were really loud. Kenma didn’t like loud people, they made his brain hurt when they yelled again and again and again. He didn’t like it when they said things and then repeated them in a different tone because were they asking something or what? Most of the attempts at friendship he’d made earlier on had died within a week. 

Running made him feel yucky and he couldn’t take a bath or change at school so he chose to stay in his classroom playing on his phone. He hated how the clothes stuck to his skin and made him feel all itchy and heavy. He liked light loose shirts and trousers and soft socks that didn’t squeeze his ankles too tight unlike the ones he’d had to wear his first year at elementary school. 

Boys his age said he was boring. Kenma had a lot of fun by himself, though.

When he was 8 years old and two weeks his mother told him to get some fresh air and stop playing in front of his computer. He walked outside his house with his mother looking out the window in case any stranger approached him and stood there playing on his phone. The phone screen was tiny and bright but the buttons on the phone were fun to click and if you wanted you could make songs with them too. 

And then a screaming kid came running into him. He gasped when he fell on his butt, feeling the gravel scrape the thin skin of his hands. He stayed on the floor with an unreadable expression for a few seconds, his mouth almost in the shape of a perfect ‘o’. It didn’t hurt but it burnt. The other kid helped him up unceremoniously, offering his hand despite them not knowing each other. 

“I’m sorry neighbor-san” The other kid said. Kenma wondered how he knew he was his neighbor since he was rarely seen out playing, unlike him. 

Kenma had seen him through the living room window while they moved in a couple of weeks ago. He had also _heard_ him yelling, playing outside, several times and sometimes he was so loud he had to cover his ears with both hands, close his eyes, wrap a pillow around his head and rock himself a little on his favourite couch until the world got calmer again. That was why he didn’t like loud people. 

“Ok” He replied not really knowing what to say besides that. 

“Do you want to play with me? I couldn’t play outside this week because I’m failing math” Kuroo added as if Kenma was supposed to care. He was failing math too, but he was still allowed to play outside. 

“Not really, I’m playing on my phone” Kenma said, picking up his phone from the ground. It was a bulky Nokia with the snake game in it. 

“Please, please, please” The other kid begged. He looked like he’d been running for a while but he didn’t look yucky like the other kids often did. His face was red from either shame or the effort to breathe. His hair was the opposite of Kenma’s. Kenma’s hair fell straight down onto his shoulders and the kid’s hair was all spiky and messy. It looked cool. 

He considered it for a second. He remembered what old lady Mirai said: if it’s not bad and they ask really politely you have to say yes so you don’t hurt their feelings. _Okay_ . But he didn’t really want to run and he didn’t know how to play outside. Oh, _and his neighbor was making puppy eyes at him._

“My name is Kozume Kenma, nice to meet you. I can play ten minutes but then I have to play snake” There it was. He was being _polite_ like his mother told him. 

“Kuroo Tetsurou” The neighbor said and held his hand out again. This time he noticed it was dirty so Kenma didn’t shake it again. “Do you have a phone? That’s so cool!”

“It’s only to play and talk to my mum,” He explained. Kids in school had also been impressed. “My mum knows a lot about phones”. He continued and then he furrowed his brow feeling like he’d said too much. 

“Amazing!” Kuroo exclaimed. “Can you teach me how to play?”.

So Kenma didn’t have to run at all. Instead, he taught Kuroo how to play snake and the spaceship game on his phone until the battery died. 

Kenma went to bed and played with his hair for hours before being able to fall asleep. Having a friend seemed cool now. 

Kuroo stuck around. Soon after, he introduced himself to Kenma’s mother and then they spent at least 3 hours a day playing video games together almost every day. He didn’t really like going to Kuroo’s place that much, but sometimes he did so they could do other things Kuroo liked too.

Kenma loved explaining things to Kuroo because he was so easy to impress and he listened to everything he said like it really mattered. Sometimes he interrupted Kenma because he’d heard the same stats like five times that week but Kenma was so excited about it that he couldn’t just skip over it like it was nothing. Kuroo, for his part, thought Kenma was pretty fun to play with because he knew a lot about games and he liked repeating words the characters said so they both learnt cool grown up words. They spent all autumn and winter tucked under blankets while playing video games, drinking hot tea and cocoa and pausing only to study together although Kuroo was one year older than him and went to a different school.

And then came the summer. Kenma hated summers because he hated sweating and his long hair and preference for big clothes didn’t help at all. Sometimes Kuroo let him borrow some of his t-shirts because he was taller and wider than Kenma was and they stayed inside as much as they could.

“Do you want to play outside?” Kuroo proposed with a smile one day. Kenma swallowed nervously. No, he didn’t. But he hadn’t wanted to play with Kuroo at the beginning either and his mother had told him they had to share to have a fair friendship. That meant sharing time and games too, so he nodded making that face he did when he didn’t like things. “It’ll be fun Kenma”

Kuroo invited him into his house to retrieve a colorful ball and then they headed outside once again. The sun and the blue sky were too bright but the colors of the ball helped him focus on Kuroo’s words. He felt the heat reach his face and start forming small beads of sweat behind his neck. 

“Do you want to toss for me?” Kuroo asked beaming.

“Toss?”

“Yes, have you ever played volleyball? Just throw it up in the air and I’ll hit it”

Kenma hated learning new things. His mother would teach him useful things and sometimes Kuroo would teach him not so useful things, like how to eat apples with seeds and everything and how to cheat on math tests. He considered it for a moment. 

“Mh” He nodded.

* * *

Soulmate marks aren’t a thing in Kuroo’s family. Kuroo’s mother and father had had a happy and healthy marriage, they loved each other and they had found out they were soulmates at a young age. When Kuroo turned 7 his mother left them and Kuroo had to move to Tokyo with his grandparents and his dad. His dad told him it was nothing to worry about, sometimes soulmates don’t work out and that’s okay and Kuroo trusted him. After all, he knew how to fix the TV. Sometimes he worried his mum would come back with a little sister or brother but he didn’t know anything about her for years. Soulmates just didn’t seem to be that important to reach a sense of fulfillment like his dad had.

Come to think of it, after several high school boyfriends and some fuckbuddies he had never paid attention to anyone’s soulmate mark. There were rumors about him and this or that guy but they were always lies. Their marks were always visible and Kuroo had only seen his a few times. 

When Kuroo turned 12, he asked his best friend if he could take a picture but Kenma didn’t feel comfortable at all with the idea of touching Kuroo’s sweaty back for a dumb mark. If his mother walked in, it’d be weird. 

He liked that Kenma didn’t worry about the subject either. Kenma’s mark was always hidden by his baggy clothes and long sleeves but he had seen it several times during the summer and he had seen Nozomi’s too. None of them seemed to care much about them. Besides, Kenma had several birthmarks on his body, like a cat with different patches of color. He said it was _genetic_ and Kuroo thought that was a really cool word.

Kenma was different to his other friends in a lot of ways. He’d had to beg for him to join the volleyball club in middle school. He promised he didn’t have to run or move that much and volleyball could be as much of a strategy game like RPGs. Kenma didn’t like running to retrieve balls, but he loved tossing when the ball flew past him with a _whoosh_ and smashed the floor with a deafening _plop_. He often asked for Kuroo to spike the ball again just so he could hear the sound again and again. At the beginning, Kenma had had to use earphones to practice but little by little he got used to the sound of trainers squeaking on the gym floor, people cheering for them and his teammates celebrating their well deserved points. 

At age 12 his mother helped him dye his hair blonde and he let his roots grow black without any care. It was a look on him, although his hair wasn’t that soft anymore. 

Tora called him pudding head when the roots started coming in and Kuroo thought it suited him as much as the hair colour did. He used the same brand and scent of shampoo and conditioner since elementary school because he loved the smell. Kuroo had memorised it already. 

Between the many cool things Kenma had and did that Kuroo had taken note of, there was also a huge list of things that were not okay for Kenma. _Uncool_ , in his own words. 

He couldn’t touch wood at all, unless varnished, because it made his hands hurt and his bones feel snappy and like jelly at the same time. He didn’t like fried food because it upset his stomach and he said the oil stuck to his throat, but he hated wet food too so there was a quite limited amount of food he could actually eat without feeling _yucky_ . Kuroo loved yogurt and Kenma thought it was disgusting, he despised dunking his biscuits or bread in anything and he chewed very fast so they wouldn’t feel mushy in his mouth. He also thought clothes were stupid, not in the way that anyone else would think but more along the lines of _seems are stupid and itchy and loose threads are nerve-wracking and anything that isn’t loose is terrible_ . So the bigger Kuroo got in comparison to him, the more clothes became _theirs_ instead of just his despite Kenma’s closet full of extra soft clothes with no tags. Kenma thought Kuroo’s scent on his clothes was somehow comforting. And that was one of the few smells he found comforting and not overwhelming. 

He wasn’t as sensitive to smells as much as he was to textures but instead of freaking out like he did when he touched things he didn’t like, he scrunched his nose in the cutest way. One yucky face a day is okay, two are dangerous and three make Kenma shut down and stop talking. 

Very early on Kenma’s mum explained to Kuroo that when the world was too overwhelming for him, Kenma would go non-verbal for a while, therefore as soon as Kuroo got his own phone, he made sure he had an app ready to go whenever it happened so they could communicate effectively. The older they grew, the less frequently it happened since Kenma was usually exposed to more stimuli thanks to volleyball matches.

Kenma would still go straight to physical contact with Kuroo rather than using his words. He tended to go for simpler ways of asking for help but he didn’t really need much since he’d been in therapy from a young age and he was really good at problem solving despite how childish his quiet and shy personality made him look. He was Nekoma’s brain, after all.

Outside of volleyball, Kenma didn’t talk much to anyone. Kuroo acted like a bridge between him and the rest of the world and it worked wonders throughout middle school and most of high school. The more they grew up, the more they seemed to understand each other perfectly and they remained comfortable in each other’s company. Kuroo knew Kenma could survive without him so he didn’t stress when he wanted to be alone or see other people. 

Their friendship grew in tandem with them and it was only natural they’d end up moving together when they left for college. Ironically enough, Kenma was majoring in social media marketing and it was going well for him already since he had a very solid audience on youtube as Kodzuken at the age of 19. Kuroo wasn’t really that convinced about social work but maybe he would go into something sports related later. He’d suck as a coach, so if he made sure to make the right connections then it’d be alright. Or that was what his father had told him.

Being a college kid, soulmates became a bit of a touchy subject for everyone. There were those who knew their soulmates from childhood, those who were disgusted by the idea of a soulmate, people who wore their soulmate marks shamelessly trying to find theirs at school, and others who had found theirs in college and absolutely hated them. Like those two kids from Kenma’s economy class who had literally given each other a black eye in front of Kuroo. Even amongst his group of friends there were Lev and Yaku who weren’t that close yet but bore the same marks and were getting to know each other to try and see if it worked.

It all made Kuroo think of those days in elementary school when he thought about his own soulmate and his mother leaving. Did soulmates even make sense? It was stupid, it all belonged to romantic yucky adult things and it was none of his business, he wasn’t going to kiss anybody anyway. Some of his teachers would talk about his father behind his back, because not having your soulmate stay for you and your kid was _that terrible_. Kuroo didn’t think it even affected him or his family dynamics after a few years. 

Some of his classmates would make fun of him as they made fun of everyone else whose mark was visible to them. Kuroo usually forgot about it and never really saw it, but as soon as he’d started changing in front of other kids for PE they wouldn’t stop comparing marks and fantasising about the person that they liked and what their marks would look like and what if they were actually soulmates? Kuroo blushed at the idea of having a soulmate because he wasn’t sure he even wanted one. 

His mark was on the small of his back in the shape of the chinese radical for ‘person’ which he thought was funny. It didn’t tell him much, but they never did. Kenma seemed to have only one and it matched with his mother’s. They said it was shaped like a cat, but Kuroo didn’t see it. 

What if he was destined to be alone? What if having a soulmate was too much responsibility and he couldn’t bear it? What if it was genetic? His mother didn’t need hers, so who assured him that wouldn’t happen to him too? It was too much to think about. He couldn’t wrap his head around being forever with someone he didn’t even know yet. What if it was awkward like with Yaku and Lev? What if he hated them like Kenma’s classmates? He wasn’t going to be an asshole, but what if he didn’t like them that much? 

It felt weird forcing himself to love and accept someone as a forever companion when the only stable relationship in his life was with his father and Kenma. Kenma was different, he wasn’t weird about things like everyone else was, he just nodded yes or no or made that funny face and that was it. Things were simple between them.

Kuroo stopped himself right then and there.

He had nothing to worry about. He wasn’t forced to stay with someone he didn’t like because soulmates were stupid anyways. Weren’t they supposed to be perfect for you? Then, why was he stressing so much about it? College was the perfect time to cut himself some slack. 

* * *

“Do you like volleyball?” He asked Ushijima, the guy he was on a date with. He was way taller than him and it made him a bit weak in the knees, but the guy was so uncommunicative it made Kuroo feel superficial. He wasn’t stupid, he was just too serious..

“I’m more of a soccer kind of guy” He replied, taking a sip from his beer can. They were sitting on the curb outside a club after heavily making out in the dark as they danced to some shittie indie goth something band. 

“Really? Soccer?” He blurted out with an almost disgusted face. He was a bit tipsy but not even close to drunk. He could see Ushijima had a lot of physical appeal but his personality seemed a bit lacking compared to his kissing. It’s not like he was planning on dating the guy either way. “Can we go inside and dance some more?”.

After five other guys Kuroo realised finding a man you actually liked physically was much easier than finding someone who made you feel at ease, like he was expecting. He quickly figured out he liked making out with tall guys while dancing in clubs only a little bit tipsy, never high or drunk. He also liked seeing them around campus and nodding at them with a cheeky smile.

Truth be told, he wasn’t really keen on the idea of actually being in a relationship but he wanted to meet new people and have fun with them in clubs, or campus, or bathrooms or beds. Whatever. 

He didn’t plan on getting stuck on someone but he found Tsukkishima and he was comfortable around him. He was quiet, a little mean, like he was used to with Kenma, and he was really good at kissing so he stayed. They weren’t a couple, in fact, Kuroo wasn’t even sure Tsukkishima was really into him and neither was he so it was okay as soon as they had a great time in bed, which they did. 

* * *

Kenma was bored. He’d played every single TLOZ he owned in every console he owned and he still felt dead bored. The music didn’t make anything in his body feel good anymore. Actually, he felt like an overbaked potato in Kuroo’s old Nekoma hoodie that was now his. His head and eyes hurt but he couldn’t sleep well if Kuroo wasn’t home, it made him slightly anxious.

Kuroo had been spending more and more nights outside and it made Kenma feel a little lonely. He wasn’t used to feeling that but he’d been a steady company throughout his life and now the house felt empty without his loud laughter and scoffs when he watched TV or tried to study. 

He huffed to himself. Kenma wasn’t one to feel unsettled alone. The birthmark on his wrist itched and he decided to call his mum before going to bed. It was 1AM. 

The next day he woke up to a text from Kuroo:

“i drank all the coffee sorry bro” 

Ugh, he hated when Kuroo called him _bro_. He knew Kuroo had probably laughed to himself when writing that or maybe he just didn’t care about Kenma that much anymore? He missed Kuroo a little, just a little. 

He wondered if maybe Kuroo had found someone to keep him busy. Kenma wasn’t all that fun and he was probably messing around with some guy that he liked. Kenma had never accepted any of his invitations to clubs and bars and he knew Kuroo enjoyed dancing and making out with strangers. He’d said that out loud, drunk, several times during the year. 

Maybe they were getting serious, whoever this other guy was. But why wouldn’t Kuroo tell him? Wait, what if he’d found his soulmate? That was reason enough for him to hide it from Kenma. They’d spent their entire lives laughing at the concept of soulmates and if Kuroo had found him then of course he’d be awkward about it. He would never recognise he was wrong. _Shit_. Kenma pouted in the dark under the covers. 

Kenma was happy for him whatever was going on, actually. He’d have some quiet for once. 

God, maybe he didn’t like silence as much as he’d thought. 

He recovered quickly and his phone started vibrating. It was Yaku. He picked up and waited for Yaku to speak without saying a word

“Kenma, is Kuroo there?,” Yaku started in an aggravated tone. “He’s not replying to my texts or picking up the phone since last night and he told me we’d work on our project this morning. Could you wake him up?” He continued in a pleading voice. Kenma liked Yaku’s voice, it was nice how it constantly went up and down and remained soft.

Kenma sighed. “He’s not here”. He said matter of factly. He had no idea where he could be, not that he cared much. 

“Fucking Kuroo… Could you tell him to at least reply to my texts when you see him, please?”

“I think the last time I saw him was Tuesday,” Kenma replied trying not to sound worried. Yup, exactly three days ago when he burnt Kenma’s bagel. “He burnt my bagel” He continued.

“What do you mean Tuesday?”

“I mean Tuesday” Kenma retorted and almost scoffed on the phone.

“Where the fuck is he?” Yaku murmured. Kenma could hear him growing impatient, but he didn’t have any answers.

“Dunno”

“Ok, thanks, Kenma. See you in class” Kenma sighed and cut the phone call without a word. He melted into his mattress and sighed as he let his body feel heavier and heavier. He felt like an actual pudding.

So it wasn’t just him Kuroo had been avoiding. 

That afternoon, he ran into Yaku on his way home. Yaku approached him first, Kenma was trying to ignore him because he wasn’t sure how to say hi but Yaku always made it easy, just like Kuroo did. Lev, Oikawa and his boyfriend, whose name he couldn’t remember, were behind him.

“No sign of Kuroo yet?” Kenma shook his head no and shrugged, “What if he’s missing or something?”

“He’s not. He drank my coffee and left a towel in the living room” Kenma explained. It was only logical. 

“Hasn’t he been weird lately?” Yaku prompted with his hands on his hips. Come to think of it for like the fourth time during the day, Kuroo was rarely that absent. They’d never spent more than a week apart from each other and besides the mess he usually left behind and the dry texts, he was radio silent. Even Kenma could tell those were dry texts. 

Kenma nodded, deep in thought again. “Is he seeing someone?” He asked. Maybe Yaku knew the truth Kuroo was trying to hide from him for some reason.

“Not that I know of. He was sleeping around with this guy but they’re not a thing that I know of… Oh my god, is he fucking dating Tsukkishima? Ugh” Yaku whispered in panic. He was certainly fucking him or being fucked by him, but dating? Kenma was not so sure about that.

Yaku hated Tsukkishima and so did Kenma. 

Lev’s tall and pale figure interrupted their conversation as he tried to take Yaku’s hand in his. Kenma looked between them as if asking if _they_ were dating. That wasn’t impossible, but Kuroo dating that guy? No way.

“They’re soulmates” Oikawa murmured coming up behind Lev and Yaku gasped in response. Kenma didn’t like Oikawa, he was loud and mean and said stupid things all the time. 

They said their goodbyes and Kenma picked up some food before walking back to the apartment he and Kuroo shared, hoping he would find him there this time around. Kuroo was asleep on the couch with the TV on, probably having been lulled to sleep by the faint dialogue of the movie. Kenma didn’t have it in him to wake him up to ask how he was doing. He missed him a lot but his presence was reassuring enough. He’d better get used to that because that was all he was getting now, it seemed. 

Before going to bed he caught Yaku writing in their chat. A few minutes later he got a text: “Have you thought of seeing someone?”. Kenma did that yucky face again.

* * *

“But have you?” Yaku insisted over dinner in the most quiet voice he could. Lev and Iwaizumi ﹘ _now he knew his name_ ﹘ were sitting on his couch waiting for Kuroo to show up to eat the food Kuroo’d promised to cook himself. Of course he hadn’t.

Kenma could only sigh in response before retorting: “I’m gay and autistic, how hard could it be?” Lev and Iwaizumi stared from the couch, startled. Kenma had never been that loud or ironic before. 

“Listen, you could try some apps to get to know more people. You’re good at people online, Kenma. I just don’t want you to feel alone” Yaku said, tensing his hands to avoid patting Kenma’s head. “You know you always have me, but I don’t know you like Kuroo does. I know I make you uncomfortable sometimes” Yaku continued. 

Kenma huffed in response. He was getting very uncomfortable, indeed. He didn’t think Kuroo’d be capable of abandoning him but if only fucking a guy made him behave like that, nothing could assure him he wouldn’t abandon him for less. 

That day after there were no signs of Kuroo again, he downloaded Tinder persuaded by Yaku’s endless texts. He swiped left at least 30 times before finding someone who looked nice. He was short, ginger and liked volleyball. Two things in common. He swiped right and waited for him to start talking.

Kenma wasn’t exactly looking for a date as much as he was looking for any kind of company he could get, really. He was doing it out of panic, sure, but Yaku had only made him panic more on his defense. His stomach was getting upset when he got a notification.

“What position do you play?” Oh, right down to business. Cool, because Kenma didn’t know how to flirt at the beginning of a conversation. 

“Played. Setter” He texted back, and two hours later he was still talking to Hinata. It was a nice distraction for a while, until he heard Kuroo walk into the apartment and stumble into his bedroom. He thought of how Kuroo always used to check on him before going to bed and it only made his stomach rumble more, unsettled.

The next day he swiped right on five other guys just because they were handsome. Only two started a conversation. One turned out to be Kuroo’s classmate, Konoha, and he claimed to have seen Kenma a few times hanging around, except Kenma couldn’t care less because he never looked up when he walked if he wasn’t talking to Kuroo or Yaku. 

The next day, he went for coffee with Konoha and decided he hated him. He was nice and all, but when he thought of his face later that day, rather of fantasising about his strong arms holding him up he thought of the nauseating and overbearing smell of coffee grounds, sugar, perfume, pastries and plants. He hated cafés so he hated Konoha for taking him to one by association. He didn’t talk to him anymore.

The second guy’s name was Kunimi and he was nice too but he was a smoker which made Kenma scrunch his nose at him constantly throughout the date. He asked him if he was allergic to grass or pollen and Kenma said yes because he didn’t want to be rude. He invited him to his place and Kenma declined before saying goodbye with a handshake. A _freaking handshake_. His mother and Kuroo had taught him better. 

The third guy was the first one he had swiped right on and if this one didn’t work maybe he’d give up because he was exhausted from trying to socialise with strangers. He was really really enthusiastic about everything and Kenma didn’t understand how he was so flexible with the things Kenma disliked but agreed to everything Kenma seemed to hate. His personality was a bit like Kuroo’s, except rather childish instead of immature. Kenma decided he could be a good friend and declined a kiss but thanked him for the hot cocoa. 

He gave up without informing Kuroo he ever tried to date three total strangers. That was an improvement right there and maybe he was ready to take on the world by himself behind a screen. None of them asked invasive questions about his condition, which Kenma had mentioned earlier on the chats, so they would be more understanding in case he felt uncomfortable or tired of interacting with them. He made almost no eye contact with any of them but was able to carry different conversations without sounding too artificial with some effort. 

They were all lacking in comparison to Kuroo. Perhaps it was unfair of him to compare total strangers to his best friend of years but he was so used to being comforted by his presence and having to give no explanations whatsoever for his behaviour. Kuroo knew exactly how to treat him and what he meant. He didn’t touch him without his permission and always took note of the things Kenma preferred. They just worked together and Kenma thought he’d never find anything like what they had.

Kuroo would be proud of him, but there was still no sign of him. So he texted Yaku informing him he hated dates and would be deleting Tinder shortly thereafter.

He still missed Kuroo.

* * *

Kuroo was having panic attacks for the second time in his life. He’d had night terrors and panic attacks for a few months after his mother left, thinking something had happened to her and almost twelve years later he was experiencing them again. 

He had seen Kenma’s body and birth marks several times. He’d insisted they were _genetic_ like he had told him several times during their childhoods. Kuroo knew there was one special mark Kenma could see and knew of that was on his wrist, it was darker than the other ones and it was identical to his mother’s. And then there was one Kenma apparently didn’t know of, on the small of his back in the shape of the chinese character for ‘person’, even darker than the one on his wrist.

_Identical._

_To._

_Kuroo’s._

Kuroo was forgetting how to breathe. He couldn’t believe he’d known Kenma for almost twelve years, changed in front of him a thousand times being aware of his own soulmate mark without even thinking about the possibility of Kenma’s **marks.** Did that mean his other birthmarks were also soulmate marks? Maybe he had nothing to worry about because Kenma was such a catch he had like ten potential soulmates besides him, right? What were the chances of not noticing in more than a decade, right?

He was fucked. 

As soon as he remembered how to breathe after watching Kenma put on **his** Nekoma hoodie over his naked torso, he decided he would stop seeing Tsukki. He needed a new excuse to not see Kenma because every time he saw his face he got nauseous. Luckily, he had more friends outside the group they shared, so he decided he would go panic to Bokuto’s dorm and stay there as long as he could avoid the subject.

Ignoring Kenma made him feel guilty. He missed him a lot, even more when he was so close to him pretending he didn’t know about the soulmate mark. He couldn’t look at him without feeling like the air was leaving his body.

He was overstepping his boundaries. It wasn’t like Kuroo hadn’t thought about it before, they both liked men and maybe they should’ve kissed to see how that felt but Kenma looked like kissing would seriously make him throw up a little in his mouth. 

They were friends, best friends. That was it. Nothing more. 

And with that thought he went to sleep for the third night on Bokuto’s floor using the same shirt he’d been wearing for days to class. He was fucking doomed. 

Two weeks later Yaku staged an intervention. He’d been trying to show up at the apartment more to avoid making Kenma feel guilty, but Kuroo had never been one to hide his emotions and he couldn’t lie to Kenma because he didn’t know when he was lying so he’d believe anything Kuroo told him. They’d built an honest relationship over the years and Kuroo didn’t want to ruin it for some stupid shit like soulmate marks. He could find someone else to love, someone else to have fun with if Kenma didn’t want anything to do with him anymore.

Kuroo genuinely cried in frustration the moment Yaku locked the door behind him, leaving them both staring at each other on the couch of their living room. 

“Yaku’s stupid. I’m okay, Kenma. I’m here” Kenma sighed in response and that was enough for Kuroo to understand Kenma could read him like a book. Of course Kenma knew better.

“I miss you” Kenma murmured hidden in the same red hoodie he’d been living in for a week. “I forgot how to make coffee, you threw away the instructions and the machine has too many buttons” He stated, as if trying to confess something else. That was the way Kenma talked about his feelings.

“Sorry, I’ve had a lot of work and﹘” Kenma cut him.

“You haven’t. Yaku says you’re not even bothering with your group project assignments. He thinks you’re seeing someone” Dead silence. Kuroo wanted to be swallowed by the depths of hell for even thinking Kenma was capable of seeing him as more than a best friend. He didn’t even know where those thoughts came from but they’re there so better to acknowledge them because his hands were itchy and he couldn’t breathe all that well again. He wanted to cry. “Are you?” Kenma asks.

“Yes” Kuroo nodded without giving it a thought. That was the best way to make all of this go away, he convinced himself. And then Kenma just nodded, he let it go and turned on the TV to leave Kuroo with some company before walking into his room and locking the door behind him.

Kuroo could feel the tears welling up behind his closed eyes. He’d been incredibly stupid for thinking he didn’t need Kenma. How long had it stayed platonic? He couldn’t remember a day where he hadn’t needed to see Kenma’s eyes on his face before going to sleep, where he hadn’t needed the comforting touch of Kenma’s fingers scratching his scalp and carding through his bed hair after a nerve wracking day full of assignments. He’d had to beg for physical contact at the beginning, but Kenma had a way of hearing him and opening up to him slowly. He missed Kenma’s shampoo scent and the way he bit his lip and made soft noises to distract himself while playing and watching films. He was so used to having Kenma by his side always, he forgot at some point they’d have to separate from one another and that specific minute Kuroo’s heart would break. 

He never wanted to part ways. 

* * *

Was he upset? Kenma couldn’t tell why his stomach hurt so much, but it did and he was shaking because he didn’t understand how Kuroo of all people could’ve lied to him like that. He was crying for the first time in years and he couldn’t make a sound when Kuroo said he’d be back in a few hours. He only heard the bang of the door behind him and he wished Kuroo would’ve bothered checking in on him. A hug would’ve been alright, he thought.

Kenma woke up feeling groggy, puffy and gross after a crying fit and a nap. It was 2AM and someone was knocking relentlessly at the door. 

“Kenma, I forgot my keys. My phone’s dead. Open! The! Door!” Kuroo shouted very distinctly outside. Kenma walked out in a second without even checking his face. It was obvious he’d been crying but if Kuroo were to ask him he wouldn’t know what to say. Had he always needed Kuroo this much? Did he think Kuroo was going to stick around forever? Did he want him to? 

The lying wasn’t the only thing that bothered him. Kuroo didn’t need to lie to him, they didn’t need to hide things from each other because they’d both learnt to explore the world together. Sure, it had been a bit harder for Kenma, but Kuroo had always held his hand and hugged him tight when he needed a weight around him to keep him steady. 

“You’re drunk” He stated once Kuroo walked in and just stood there staring at Kenma. His hair was messier than usual, no sleep needed to make it worse than it normally was. 

“Do you hate me?” Kuroo asked in his drunkenness. Kenma could tell he’d been crying too. “Because I don’t,” He continued and chuckled to himself, feeling like the most ridiculous piece of shit in the world. “I actually think I’m in love with you” He finished and in three quick steps he’d locked himself in his own bedroom. Kenma blinked, sure he could hear him cursing himself from the living room.

“Good night then” He said loudly, turning off the lights and making his way into his own bedroom when Kuroo, as loud as he could be, opened his bedroom door and followed Kenma into his. 

“I think I’m in love with you. There, I said it. I’m gross”.

“You’re drunk,” Kenma explained, as if that was enough of a solid explanation. Kuroo didn’t know what love was and neither did he. All they both knew was each other. 

“You have a mark on your back. I do too. Look in the mirror” Kuroo said between drunk sobs, pathetically slurring his words as he pointed towards Kenma and the mirror on the wall. “You have it, I do too. Oh my god, I’ve been so stupid Kenma. Of course it was you all along”. 

Kenma didn’t know what to say. He already had a soulmate. He didn’t have another mark, he didn’t need another soulmate. He was ready to have a life on his own, his mum and Kuroo taught him everything he needed and more. Kuroo kept his routine in check, he helped him with hard things and talked to the clerks when Kenma couldn’t. But Kuroo was bound to move on and Kenma wasn’t sure he would ever be able to leave him behind. He missed him, he needed him.

He approached the mirror and pulled the hoodie up, looking for something he hadn’t bothered to check before. 

“See?” Kuroo exclaimed. Kenma could see it clearly now.

“Can I see yours?” He asked incredulously, turning red and waiting for Kuroo to turn around and show him his. Kenma choked on his spit when Kuroo showed it and it had to be a joke because it was dawning on him too that maybe he wanted Kuroo to stay and be held by him. “Are you joking? I don’t understand” His stomach hurt so bad. Kuroo knew he was bad at jokes. 

“I feel like I’m going to pass out,” Kuroo said, dragging himself towards Kenma’s bed and laying all his weight on the mattress as if he belonged there. They’d shared their beds so many times as kids it wasn’t a weird image for Kenma, at all. That should’ve been a clue. 

Kenma sighed and helped Kuroo out of his jeans like he usually did when he was too drunk to function. He would let him sleep there and he would lie next to him knowing that this night was different and the dark was hiding more than a blush, tears and an unbearable truth they’d been blind to for years.

He let himself melt into Kuroo’s body heat, feeling his strong arms against his back. He knew Kuroo wouldn’t move without asking because it made Kenma’s skin tingle, it always had, in a very different way. It suddenly all made sense: the way Kuroo would know exactly what Kenma needed, how he knew every single place Kenma hated and every single word he hated. Kuroo had complied to everything Kenma’d asked of him without even complaining and they’d been there for each other for such a long time. 

_Of course it was you._

Kenma’s thought took him back to his teenage years when he’d wonder how kissing someone would feel, specifically Kuroo. Back then, he loved holding his hands, calloused from spiking during practice. He loved the way Kuroo got excited when he tossed for him and knowing he’d always have him, no matter what. He’d buried it deep within him but he couldn’t help but feel it coming back up from his stomach, rising like bile until it reached his throat, scolding hot. He let out a loud sob. Kuroo was crying behind him too and Kenma let it happen without wondering if it was a bad sign. 

* * *

When Kuroo woke up, he felt disgusting and stupid. Kenma had been staring at him for about half an hour, wondering if it had been coincidental that they’d woken up flushed together, fitting perfectly against each other’s bodies like puzzle pieces. Kuroo’s arms had been around him for fifteen minutes, holding him tight before he stirred and Kuroo’s arms plopped back onto the mattress. Kenma felt at ease and found himself certain that he didn’t need to keep looking because he knew Kuroo’s face perfectly, every little bump and spot. 

“I’m sorry” Kuroo said. He felt nothing but a deep shame set heavily onto his bones as he spoke.

“You were drunk” Kenma stated, pursing his lips. “Are you?” He then asked. Kuroo couldn’t remember much besides the confession and dramatic dialogue he’d composed in his head while waiting for Kenma to open the door of the apartment the night before that had come out completely different.

“Drunk?” Kuroo asked and Kenma huffed. He buried his head in the space between their bodies and complained _no,_ “In love with you? Kuroo tried again and felt Kenma nod in response against his chest. Kuroo nodded too.

“Can you kiss me?” Kenma asked, nonchalantly. After a second he continued, “Can I kiss you?” 

He nodded again and closed his eyes swallowing whatever noise he was sure would come kicking up his throat. He felt Kenma’s soft hair tickle his neck and chin as he moved to place his head on the pillow again. Kenma’s lips were surprisingly soft and warm. He’d imagined them hard and chapped because Kenma bit them during the wintertime. Their lips touched for a second before Kenma pulled back. 

Kenma made that yucky face. “Can you wash your face and brush your teeth first?” 

Kuroo could only laugh nervously in response. When he stood up his legs could barely hold him up, and maybe that was okay because at least after the pathetic act he’d put on, Kenma was asking for a kiss. 

He caught himself in the mirror and laughed maniacally at how terrible he looked. Kenma had been staring at him for god knew how long and he still asked for a kiss. He washed his face avoiding his blushed reflection. Brushing his teeth made the nausea die down, as well.

Once he was ready he went back to bed, this time lying on the right side of the bed, pushing Kenma closer to the wall behind them. 

“You smell minty, I like it,” Kenma said with a smile. “Ok. Can you kiss me?” 

Kuroo nodded again as if he was unable to muster a word because it’d destroy the status quo of whatever fantasy world he found himself in. He reached for Kenma’s hair to pull it back gently and cupped his face. He looked into Kenma’s eyes as if he could read them but Kenma was looking at some imaginary point on his forehead as he’d learnt to do as a kid to pretend he was making eye contact. And then he felt Kenma meet his lips in a rush, as if they’d been waiting for years and years for this single moment. It was soft and warm and Kenma’s morning breath died on his mouth as he gently licked over his lower lip. Kenma’s breath hitched when he felt Kuroo’s tongue against his and he allowed himself to reach Kuroo’s arms and squeeze, hard.

_Of course it had been him all along._

**Author's Note:**

> Writing after a long time avoiding fics makes me cringe a lot, so I apologise beforehand for being rusty or OOC. I hope you like it, any kind of feedback is welcome.


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